


The Shining

by slodwick



Category: Smallville
Genre: Angst, First Time, Futurefic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-11-11
Updated: 2002-11-11
Packaged: 2017-11-01 10:07:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/355390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slodwick/pseuds/slodwick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hope leaves scars.  Lex wants Clark to know.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Shining

_We choose our joys and sorrows long before we experience them. - Kahlil Gibran_

Goddamn, he just shines.

Miles of golden skin that radiates in a way that has nothing to do with anything soft or romantic. Lex takes a moment, admiring the hard, angular lines of Clark's body, waiting on hands and knees in front of him. Thrills at the way the sweat gathers between his shoulder blades, slides delicately along Clark's ribs. It's so hot in this room, and the air smells like equal parts chlorine, sweat and sex. The water from the pool casts strange, curving lines on their bodies.

Lex runs his hands slowly up those long, muscular thighs, enjoying the feel of course hair under his fingertips. Clark's legs are glistening, quivering with anticipation, and perhaps a little fear. That's good, Lex thinks, he should be. Although, if Clark really knew what was in store for him, he'd be a lot more afraid. His hands slide up to grab Clark's hips, wrapping around the jut of bone there, digging his fingers in harder than he would have dared with anyone else.

Lex knows now that he loved Clark once. Thinks maybe he was the first. He had been desperate to show it then, to somehow justify that feeling in the pit of his stomach that had surged whenever Clark was around. Lex had wanted to do anything and everything for Clark. Protect him. Teach him. Taste him. Fuck him. Hold him.

He'd asked Clark to come with him when he left Smallville, laying everything out, all his heart, a fragile gift for Clark. In the end, Clark had stayed behind, determined to pursue a relationship with Chloe, committed to changing her mind, to "making it work".

Heartbroken, awash in grief, Lex had lied and said he understood. He had swallowed his pain until it settled low in his gut, festering, growing to encompass every part of him. Lost so deep in a despair he couldn't escape that never seemed to end, happiness a promise so distant as to seem like a lie. Lex would have given anything to Clark. Given all he had.

And none of it matters now; it just strikes him as ironic.

It took Clark losing everything to bring him to this place, Lex's pool room, naked in more ways than one. Lex isn't surprised that Clark is here, but he honestly thought it would take more time, more effort to coax him. A heartbroken Clark had thought he could depend on Lex. Lonely and floundering, he had sought Lex out, asking for a place to stay, asking for advice. That had been Clark's first mistake. Clark didn't understand; Lex Luthor is no one's second-best.

But he'll learn now.

Lex finds a sort of freedom in that knowledge, Clark's ignorance the best sort of excuse. Free reign to be ruthless. A Luthor is never more dangerous than when they're underestimated. That's when Lex shines. Lex has been playing this game a lot longer than Clark, and he's damn good.

Today, when Clark kissed him the first time, desperate and unsure, wearing his sensible khakis and stiff tweed jacket, it was unexpected. Lex was sure he'd tasted blood. It had been all he could do not to laugh. That kiss, the one that pushed Lex so hard into the wall of the pool room, clammy tiles against his bare back, broad expanse of warm chest pressed to his front, had been rough and needy, filled with Clark's own repressed emotions.

For the tiniest of moments, some   
residual decency in Lex cried out to him, and he considered sending Clark away. That voice of mercy, the last part of Lex that might have cared about anyone, bubbled to the surface just long enough for Lex to ignore it, and was gone as quickly as it came. Gone forever, he supposed. Lex thought he should feel bad about that.

Ridiculous whispers in Lex's ear, begging him to pick up where they'd left off, wanting to start again. Like decisions that had been made a lifetime ago could be taken back, as though the painful reality of Clark choosing someone else could ever be erased. It was unthinkable that this hunger should be finally realized and reciprocated after so long. Too long. Hears Clark saying how much he needs this, he doesn't know how he lived without Lex. That old pain flashes deep in Lex's chest, as unbelievably fierce today as it had been the day Clark left. Should he be grateful for this?

Maybe it was true. Maybe Clark had fallen in love with him at some point in the past month. So much the better. That will make it so much sweeter, so much more satisfying   
when it all falls apart. Lex is not the man he once was, but Clark is, and it's so much easier that way. Experience has separated Lex from the life he'd once had, altering the very fabric of himself. There was too much time, too much distance between himself now and the man he used to be. Lex can't remember who he was then; would he even recognize that person?

So many seemingly endless days filled with longing, nights spent alone with a frustration that bruised his soul, all because Lex couldn't bring himself to let anyone else in after Clark. Now he would seek his retribution here in Clark's body and mind. Choices had been made long ago, and now the universe owed him. Hell, the universe owed them both. Payment was due, and it was time for Clark to settle up.

It's almost sad that Clark thinks he wants this. He's convinced himself that Lex will make him complete somehow. Thinks Lex holds the key to his long sought-after happiness. Clark's willing to at least try because he really trusts Lex, and that's another mistake. That trust pisses Lex off. Genuine and unhesitating, like maybe Clark thinks he's safe, when no one is. No one is ever safe; pain is always waiting, always primed, at the ready.

Lex had been truly alone without Clark. There had no one to warn Lex when his typically self-destructive behavior morphed into something downright suicidal. Clark had been his lifeline. The boy who always arrived in the nick of time to prevent disaster. Who was always there for everyone else, but not for Lex. Not anymore. After that day, Lex didn't seem to qualify anymore, didn't meet the requirements to deserve Clark's rescue.

Things happened to Lex that he couldn't even begin to explain to Clark, things he didn't really understand himself, and he's not sure he wants to. Kidnappers are rarely friendly, Lex knew that better than most, but those men, they had had a particularly vicious Luthor grudge. Lex had sometimes wondered what his father had done to inspire such hatred.

But that experience was one he would take to the grave. The memory of those eight days was locked in a box of something stronger than lead armor, and tossed into the vast ocean of his secrets. It still pulls heavily on him, even now, weighing him down like an anchor, and he can't quite understand why his misery hadn't been enough for Clark. Why had Lex always been the one to suffer, forsaken by his hero for a woman who could never deserve him?

They say that time heals all wounds, but the wounds caused by fractured hope and honest fear can leave a hell of a scar. Lex can attest to that. He knows fear. Fear like a dagger, pointed and brutal. It rips into his heart, this dark specter of fear that leaves him cold and gasping, even years later, just thinking about it. Fear that killed his hope, inviting in bitterness and mistrust where there had been none. Where had Clark been then? Where was his pointless goodness and useless faith in humanity when Lex had needed it most? Why was Lex the one carrying this burden alone?

Clark doesn't see Lex; he sees a ghost, a pale reflection of his expectations. He smiles with his mouth and eyes, offering redemption to a man who cherishes Hell. What would the Devil want with redemption? It's as useless to him as the hope he lost so long ago. Instead, he embraces the demons inside him.

Lex doesn't understand the part of him that wants to hurt Clark, wants to posses and dominate. Take that light of everything that's still pure or simple in Clark, that innate belief in good, and extinguish it. Twist Clark's heart until it matches his own. Make him hopeless, too. He doesn't understand that desire, but he doesn't question it. He wants to educate Clark in what the world is, what he is, teach him everything Lex has known for so long.

"Lex?"

Clark's voice is cracked, questioning. He turns his head, looking back at Lex over his shoulder. Clark's face is tense, his dark eyes hungry and bordering on wild. Lex sees the sweat that has gathered just above Clark's upper lip, and that's so much sexier than it should be. Wants to lean down and lick it off. Considers spending the rest of the week wrapped up in that mouth. He thinks Clark would let him.

Rush of memory, those lips wrapped around Lex's cock moments ago. He shudders, remembering his hands on Clark's face, framing those eyes, fingers tracing those cheeks, those lips as he   
fucked his way into Clark's mouth. So damn beautiful, all that flushed skin trembling, those lips stretched wide for him, eyes closed. Clark's first blowjob, and he was scared, and that made it so good. Lex is grateful for that camera hidden in the wall; he'll enjoy watching this later. He had pulled out before he came, smirking at Clark's indignant sound of complaint.

"Such an enthusiastic boy. That's good." Clark's not a virgin, but he still blushes like one. Impossible to believe the man attached to that mouth could still possess anything even remotely like innocence, but Clark does. Fantastic.

Although, he won't for much longer.

Lex may not be the first person Clark's been with, but he knows he's the first man. Lex imagines all of Clark's previous lovers were soft and yielding, girls with wide, doe eyes and candy-coated smiles. He can almost see the short-lived encounters, filled with quietly frantic whispers and gentle caresses, kisses on closed eyelids and restrained thrusts, polite beyond reason.

Not this time. Lex doesn't want Clark to be well-behaved; he wants Clark to lose control. Lex doesn't want Clark to ever fuck anyone again without this memory encroaching. Clark should see this, feel this when he lies in bed at night. Wants to be inside Clark's mind, embedded in whatever private corner Clarks stores his fantasies in, uninvited, coloring what Clark's sees when he closes his eyes and touches himself. Everyone after this will be compared to Lex, and found wanting.

A darker part of Lex wants to see Clark begging and desperate, free of the limits he puts on himself, free from concern about what anyone thinks of him. Wants that perfect body writhing under him, the pain so close to pleasure.

Lex wants to see Clark cry.

The hunger is so fierce and focused it hurts. Lex knows he has to relieve it soon, or it could be dangerous. He might cut himself on the sharp edge of his own lust. Can a man die from sheer need, from this simple craving? Lex thinks maybe he can; thinks maybe he has.

His love for Clark once consumed him, filling his thoughts, driving him to the brink of madness. Maybe further. And it pushed him so long and so hard, a part of him did die. All the evidence he has left of that part of himself is this whistling, gaping wound in his center, encompassed by anger and bitterness. Anger for everything that was taken from him, bitterness for the way he'd been left aching and incomplete.

Clark can never replace that essential missing bit, hard as he may try. Lex wants him to know that. Has to make Clark see that even love is not enough to equal disappointment and regret. Once he knows, some part of Clark will die, too, and then maybe Lex can learn to forgive Clark, when he joins him here, in this suffering. Of course, he'll probably hate Lex, then. But that'll only be fitting. Lex would have died for Clark, did die in so many ways. And everything was still lost.

Back in the moment, Lex leans over Clark's hot back, savoring the salty nape of his neck with his mouth. He's still gripping those hips, kneading the sensitive flesh there, thumbs tracing small, teasing circles. Slides one hand over slick skin to scratch a nail down Clark's spine, mouth following, his tongue soothing the offended skin. The gesture nearly loving, deceptively gentle. Small, soft sighs escaping Clark, and Lex smiles, anticipating the cries that will echo off the tiles.

Lex reaches the base of Clark's spine, his hands slowly spreading Clark's ass, his mouth and tongue continuing boldly downward. He pauses slightly, hearing Clark's sharp gasp as realization hits him. His grin lasts only a second, his tongue darting out, circling, moist and hot. Rewarded with Clark's full-body shudder, his ragged moan so fucking sexy. Presses in further, savoring this moment. Has to adjust, move closer when Clark's arms seem to give out, and his head and shoulders drop down.

Clark's head is shaking slowly from side to side, words like "God" and "Lex" whispered like there was no distinction. Like Lex's name was something holy, a new-found religion, Clark suddenly born-again, living only for him. Lex doesn't hear it, but he knows. Knows what this is like, knows how it should have been for Clark, and how it should have been for him, and how it will never be for either of them. Not now, or ever.

Lex isn't stupid; he's known for years that there was more to Clark than what he saw, although, today, he thinks maybe what he sees will be enough. He knows that Clark has always been stronger than him, at least physically, but Lex will always have this. This knowledge that he has the power to reduce Clark Kent to a mewling, writhing bitch. Impaled on Lex's tongue and loving it. Thrusting his tongue deep inside, Lex relishes all of those little noises and cries of pleasure, each one a tiny surrender, and a huge victory.

Doing the things he'd always longed to do. But now he does them for totally different reasons. Lex wants to inflict pain, wants scars, but he knows it isn't possible with Clark. So, Lex has had to adjust his game plan. He'll inflict a different type of scar. One that will exist where only he and Clark can see it.

Clark is practically begging to be fucked already, and at least Chloe had been a challenge. Her love for Clark and her hesitance to betray her boyfriend, had been a significant obstacle to overcome, but one Lex never doubted he could. When he finally had, it had been amazing, partly because Chloe had grown into a remarkably sexy woman, but partly because he knew Chloe would tell Clark, her guilt an irresistible force.

Ultimately, she had told Clark and the aftermath of her infidelity, and subsequent revelation, had broken his heart and their relationship. But she hadn't told him who. That would never do. Another lesson about life that Lex would teach Clark. Lex decides to hold onto that little bit of information for now. He'll bide his time, wait for the right moment to do the most damage, inflict the most pain.

Clark moans in protest as Lex pulls his face away from Clark's ass, and quickly cries out as a wet finger presses in roughly where Lex's tongue had been. Lex smiles a bit at the shocked sound, twisting his finger expertly. Clark is making a visible effort to relax, to enjoy this despite the pain. Lex waits until he feels Clark pushing back, and quickly adds a second finger, pushing it in with no warning. He nearly comes from the sounds Clark makes. Something deeper than a moan, fuller and speaking volumes about how much Clark enjoys the shock of it.

There's a moment of almost complete disbelief, a realization of just how surreal this situation is. He's fucking Clark with his hand, stretching and preparing him. Lex's cock is aching now, floating between his crouched body and the rough blue tiles of the pool deck. He's harder than he can ever remember being, his body screaming for relief, for some sort of contact, but he doesn't touch himself. Not yet.

"Lex… please…" The words barely more than a whisper, broken and harsh.

"Clark… you really are beautiful like this, spread for me. Tell me what you want me to do. I want to hear you say the words, Clark."

"God, I… Lex, please, I need you… inside me." His words are broken by heavy breaths, as Lex speeds up his strokes, thrusting inside. Clark sounds like he might be on the verge of tears.

"Okay, Clark," Lex says, slowing his hand, trying to keep his voice steady, trying to disguise his urgent need. The idea that Clark is already crying thrills him, perhaps even more than the thought of fucking him. "Mmm, God, you're so tight," he whispers, his lips brushing over the shell of Clark's ear.

Lex shifts his legs, freeing his other hand, and reaches forward to grab Clark's cock. Lex starts stroking him roughly, moving in time with the fingers still buried in Clark's ass. He can feel the tension in Clark's body, knows how hard the younger man is fighting for control. Lex breathes out, hot, moist air on Clark's neck, his ear. "I'm going to fuck you now, Clark."

Something in the sound of his voice, or maybe the reality of it, is enough to push Clark over the edge. He comes with a hoarse cry, spilling hot into Lex's hand. Lex positions himself behind Clark, slicking his own cock with Clark's come. He pushes slightly, the tip of his cock pressing wet and insistent against Clark's hole.

"I'm going to do things to you that Chloe never could, Clark. Things you never knew you needed… but you will." He can tell his words hurt by Clark's sharp hiss, the passing tension in his back gone as quickly as it passed. But Lex saw it. Smiles harshly at the wound re-opened, Clark stripped bare, exposed completely. Hearing her name had hurt, and Clark doesn't answer Lex, but he isn't stopping him. Lex isn't sure he could, incredible strength or no. Lex can't wait anymore.

Lex doesn't ask Clark if he's ready because he can't be sure he cares, doesn't think it matters, really. Steady, hasty push, and he's deep. Keeps pushing until his buried, completely inside, and he's still. The silence is sudden and shocking as they both try to catch their breath. Clark drops his head onto his arms again, groan welling up from deep within his chest, perhaps deep within his heart. Feeding on something from their past, the things unsaid.

No more time for him to rest, though, as Lex pulls back and slams back in. Clark lets loose a shout, and tries to pull away some, away from Lex. It seems like it's too much, Lex remembers, overwhelming and terrifying and wonderful. Lex grabs Clark's hips with both hands, and jerks him back roughly. "Where are you going, Clark?" Lex slides a hand down Clark's back, reaching and grabbing a handful of the dark hair, tugging a little brutally. "Don't you like it?" Another rough yank of his hair, and Clark's back is arched beautifully, muscles strained and taunt.

"Don't you like being fucked, Clark? Having my cock in your ass?" Any masquerade of love, or kindness now gone, Lex's voice is angry, loud and stinging, full of years of repressed want. "Answer me."

"Yes…" Spoken barely above a whisper, and Lex isn't even sure he's meant to hear it. "Lex…"

That voice is frantic, revealing too much about Clark's need. Lex starts thrusting in earnest now, pounding into Clark's ass. He revels in the slap of skin on skin, echoing in the most obscene way throughout the large room. Underneath, he hears Clark. Broken sobs and wailing that Clark may not even realize he's doing, utterly lost in this.

Feeling his orgasm building sooner than he'd hoped, Lex reaches down, grabbing Clark's already semi-hard cock. A few strokes, and Clark yells, coming again too soon. Spasms tight around Lex, and it pushes him over. One, two erratic thrusts later, and Lex is coming, biting back the name on his lips.

Collapsing forward onto Clark, Lex takes a moment, his hearing slowly coming back. Damn that was good. So many times in the past he'd imagined it, but now he couldn't even take a moment to enjoy it, no basking in the afterglow for Lex. The most important moment was still to come.

He pulls out and moves away from the still-gasping Clark, his body liquid and slightly sticky. Stands on only slightly-unsteady legs, leaving the other man naked on the floor, and pulls on his unpleasantly cold, damp swimming trunks. As Clark rolls over to look at him, Lex turns, and begins walking towards the door.

"Not all that bad, Clark, considering it was your first time." Lex calls back over his shoulder, forcing his voice to remain indifferent, distant. "We should do this again, sometime."

"Wait… where are you going, Lex?" Clark's tone is incredulous, and breaks slightly as he speaks.

"I have to hop in the shower, Clark." Lex pauses, his hand on doorknob, and turns back, looking Clark in the eye. "I have a date tonight. I doubt Diana would appreciate it if I showed up at the club smelling like well-fucked farmboy. I certainly wouldn't be getting laid," he added, with a small chuckle.

Clark's face is perfect then. Absolutely the most wonderful thing Lex could have hoped for. Confusion, shock, then pain and anger, all cross his features within the space of a few moments. The very picture of tortured rejection. Then he's scrambling for his pants, a flush of fury and embarrassment coloring his neck and face, his hands shaking.

It was just so good for Lex, this part even better than the fuck, really, because Clark's pain was exquisite to behold. Clark would feel this longer, possibly forever. Just the way Lex had wanted it. Perfect.

"You can show yourself out, right?" Lex allows his lips to curve into a cruel smile, and then he walks through the door, closing it behind him. Lex thinks maybe now Clark is beginning to realize. Maybe he knows, at least part of what this really was, part of what Lex wanted him to understand.

Clark isn't shining so much anymore. 

**Author's Note:**

> Serves as an answer to my own Stephen King Title Challenge.


End file.
